Kick-Ass and Hit-Girl: Reborn
by adm-frb
Summary: Kick-Ass 2 (AU) It has been two years since Kick-Ass and Hit-Girl were last scene, but everything changes shortly after Mindy's fifteenth birthday when Dave, Mr. Lizewski, Marcus and herself each receive a letter from her late father... Rated T for just now, but will be uprated to M later...
1. Letters

**I don't own Kick-Ass.** I'm just borrowing the characters

**Chapter 1**

"'_I always wondered why no one ever became a real superhero… However, someone already did: Mindy Macready. When her father was killed, his old partner in the NYPD, Marcus, became her legal guardian and enrolled her at my High School. Turns out, she was damn smart too…_

_After attending Milliard-Fillmore High for only a month, she was bumped up to the Seventh Grade… then a year later, skipped the Eighth Grade to become the youngest freshman in our school's history._

_Me? Well, I became a superhero during my Freshman year at Millard-Fillmore, but doing so didn't go without consequences; not only did I have to redo my Freshman year after breaking nearly every bone in my body – a result of getting stabbed and run over while attempting stop a couple of thieves from stealing a car – but I was also indirectly responsible for the death of Mindy's father. So, I gave it up. _

_Why did I give it up? Well, unlike Mindy who retired from a being superhero because her mission was complete, I gave it up because I wasn't trained for it and it was just way too dangerous…_

_Still, being forced to repeat my Freshman year did have its advantages; it had resulted in Mindy and me both being freshmen which allowed me to keep my promise to Marcus that I'd look out for her._

_Now, two years on, we were both dying of boredom. Like most high school juniors or seniors, we had no idea what we wanted to do with our lives; or so I thought…'" _** Dave Lizewski:-"The Biography of Dave 'Kick-Ass'**** Lizewski****" by Mindy K. Lizewski**

**February 1****st****, 2014 – Morning (Saturday)**

**Home of Mindy Macready**

It was mid-morning, and I was bored out of my skull. All my schoolwork was done and I literally had nothing to do, unlike most of my fellow classmates – except for Dave. I knew he probably already had it done as well. Yeah, he may not have been as smart as me, but given he was a year older than the age group it was meant for, I knew he'd get it done almost as fast as me.

I grinned as I looked at what was on the screen of my MacBook Pro. It was a picture of a Ducati Panigale 1199 that I'd altered using Photoshop to make it purple with the letters 'HG' in black on a small rectangular pink background on the side of the fairing. Yes, I may not have been Hit-Girl for two years, but I did fully intend on going back out there… All I had to do was hack the school network, maybe give myself the award for perfect attendance…

Of course I hadn't told Marcus, my guardian, this as I knew what he'd say: He'd tell me that I was only just a couple months past my fifteenth birthday, that I wasn't Hit Girl anymore, and that my father was Damon Macready; not Big Daddy. He'd also go on about how I couldn't possibly know what I wanted to do with my life which was the exact opposite of what we were being told at school.

My iPhone started ringing. Picking it up from where I'd dumped it on the couch next to me, I grinned. It was Dave. He was probably about to tell me he'd got his schoolwork done and was as bored as me.

"Hi, Dave," I said, answering the call. "How's it hanging?" Looking up, I could see Marcus frowning from where he was seated, actually reading the _New York Post_. He didn't like it when I used such language, or profanity of any sort. He even had a damn swear jar that must have had at least a hundred bucks in it.

"_Just fine,_" Dave answered without a beat. _"How're yours?_"

"My boobs are hanging just fine," Mindy smirked, watching Marcus stare at her in shock at what she'd just said. Shaking his head, Marcus pointedly ruffled his newspaper. "So," Mindy asked, now that the pleasantries had been dealt with. "Why ya calling? To tell me you got your homework finished? You _know _I did mine last night."

"_No, none of that,_" Dave said, sounding serious. "_Dad found out I'm Kick-Ass._"

"What!" I exclaimed.

Looking across at Marcus, I watched as he folded the paper and put it aside. He was now watching listening intently. "How did he find out you're Kick-Ass?" I scowled. "You didn't tell him, did you?"

"_No, I didn't tell him!_" Dave said hotly. I sighed, knowing that it wasn't his fault. I always knew it was a possibility that Mr. L, as I called Dave's dad, might find out, but the chances of that happening two years on from Kick-Ass's last outing were very slim… That meant that he'd found out some other way, or maybe had always known. Now that was a scary thought since it meant he might also have known who I was. "_About an hour ago, Dad and I each received a letter – delivered by courier – from your dad. Haven't fully read mine yet – some of it seems to have been written in some sort of code, but it did say that you and Marcus should be getting a letter each too._"

"Fuck!" I stated. Marcus, just pointed at the jar. He'd say the words after the call was finished. I also knew Marcus was going to have to listen in. "Thanks for the warning." Instinctively, I glanced at living room window, looking out onto the street. "Dave," I asked. "Can I put this on speaker? I think Marcus should hear this."

"_Yeah,_" Dave readily agreed. "_I'll do the same. Dad's hovering over me trying to listen in…_"

Thumbing the speaker icon, I placed the phone on the coffee table in the middle of the room and walked back to the windows, thinking I'd heard the sound of a scooter heading up the street. Sue me, yeah I can identify the type of vehicle by the sound of its engine. "You're on speaker," I told Dave. "I can also hear a scooter heading up the street."

"_Yeah, the courier that delivered the letters here was riding one._" Dave told me. "_A dark red one. Yamaha; not sure of the model though._"

_Perfect_, I thought. I know had the information I needed to know if the scooter heading up the street was the courier. Yup. Pulling up in front of the driveway was a Yamaha scooter – a 2014 model Yamaha Majestic, and it was a dark red. "You were right." I could feel Marcus' eyes boring into me. Not liking the sort of skills I'd been taught, nor the fact that I'd made sure I never lost those skills. Watching the courier dismount and walk up to the door, I gave Dave and his dad a description of the what he was wearing.

"_Yes, Mindy_," Dave's dad supplied. "_That's the same courier. Nametag said 'Alan' and his ID gave a full name of 'Alan Berkley.'"_

The doorbell rang. "_Hang on. I'm muting the call._" Stepping back to the coffee table I did so as Marcus accepted and signed for the two letters. Once the door was closed, I took the call off mute as Marcus handed me mine. "You're back on."

"Nametag read 'Alan.' ID matched too." Marcus said absently, glancing at the envelope. "Damon's handwriting alright."

Looking at my own letter as I sat back down on the couch, I had to agree that it did look like it. Not wanting to, but also knowing I had to, I opened it up, and with shaking hands I began to read: _'Dearest Mindy, if you are reading this then I am dead and you are now just past your fifteenth birthday…'_

"Yes, Damon," Marcus stated, absently, as he was reading his own letter. "She's a handful, but she does listen to me, most of the time…" After a moment, Marcus looked up at me, saying: "'Baby Doll, 'Sugar' and 'Honey.'"

I smiled, knowing he was talking about my profanity problem. "Yes Marcus," I told him. "He wasn't always Big Daddy. Out of costume, he was Damon, or 'Daddy' as I called him." I didn't omit dad's hero name, if Damon had written Dave's dad a letter too, then he probably already knew. I continued to read.

'_Life as a civilian, assuming you managed to take down Frank D'Amico has probably been very hard for you, but I do hope you haven't given Marcus too much grief.'_

Well that was true… mostly.

'_Being fifteen, I can only hope you're happy, maybe have a boyfriend. On that subject, I can't really offer much advice except to say that most fifteen year-old boys – excluding Dave who is very good at pretending to be gay – have a tendency to think with their dicks before brains. Make sure your boyfriend is one of the few who thinks with his dick last.'_

I laughed. Yeah, I remember Dave telling me about that. That was how he got his first girlfriend, Katie. The smile faded a moment later. I didn't know how to tell him his girlfriend was cheating on him with 'Rasul-the-Second' as I called Maleek. Thanks to Maleek, she was also addicted to heroin and cannabis.

'_Hell, maybe you'll be lucky and Dave is your boyfriend. If so, then you won't have to worry about hiding the fact that you are "Hit Girl" from him and you can guard the two identities together. However, if he isn't Dave, I can't tell you not to tell him, but I wouldn't recommend it. All I can tell you is to be as honest as you can and if he were to find out, DON'T DENY IT! If he truly cares for you he'll guard your secret.'_

I smiled. No I didn't have a boyfriend. But, I was working on that! All I really had to do was get Dave into a position where he discovered her duplicity and then be there for him. Maybe even offer to stick one of my bō-staff blades up her snatch. Now, that was a good idea. _Remember that one, Mindy_.

'_Now, being fifteen is a very important age as you're old enough to decide for yourself if you want to continue being Hit Girl. Marcus might disagree, but as I'm stating in his letter, that's how old Dave Lizewski was when he decided to become Ass-Kick (Ha Ha Ha). If you've listened to Marcus, then you've probably not been Hit Girl in a while, and you may be thinking of putting the costume back on. Again, I cannot tell you what to do, it must be your decision. Marcus can only stop you if decide to GO OUT ON YOUR OWN! You must have backup. He even has permission to call me "insane" if it would stop you.'_

"You've got that right," Marcus muttered. "I would."

'_Now, it goes against my better judgement, but as I write this two days after our midnight visit to his bedroom, I can only recommend "Ass-Kick" for this position. At the present time, he's borderline useless and is more likely get his ass kicked than "Kick-Ass." But, he has more resources than he realises. Namely you and his dad.'_

I grinned, as realisation kicked me in the ass – bad pun intended. I remembered my dad talking about this prison guard who was an ex-US Marine he got to know from when he was in Sing Sing. Dave's dad worked at Sing Sing, and was an ex-US Marine. Why didn't my dad ever tell me? "Mr L? Did you know my daddy?"

"_Yes, Mindy,_" Mr. Lizewski told me. "_I knew your father. He was a very good guy; one of the few decent inmates I ever met. It was our original intention for it to be the four of us – Your dad, Me, Dave and yourself – going after the D'Amico's. Unfortunately my wife became ill and passed away as you know, so it didn't work out as it should have. But, as you know, no plan ever goes exactly as you intend, and if it does…_"

"…then something's wrong." I finished.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!" Marcus suddenly exclaimed.

I grinned. "Fifty dollars! Jar!"

Over the phone, I could hear Dave's laughter. "_You've been waiting to say that for too long, Mindy!_"

He was right, I had. Back to reading: _'Now, I had been intending on saving this until Frank D'Amico was no more, but being a teenage vigilante means you will need it now as you grow into a young lady…'_

"Lady, my ass," Marcus shook his head.

'_The house doesn't look like much from the outside, but it's got everything that a teenage vigilante might need as you grow into an adult vigilante…'_

"A house!" I exclaimed. "I have a safehouse that is an actual fucking house!"

'_Instructions on how to find it can be found on the next page… encoded of course!_"

Flicking the page over, I could see the instructions he was talking about. At the very bottom was an addendum stating that he'd sent three other letters to Marcus, Dave and his dad.

"_Hey,_" Dave said. "_I don't want to put a damper on your excitement, but, are you sure this is actually from your father?_"

"It's his handwriting!" I defended my belief that it was from daddy.

"Mindy," Marcus said. "I agree that it looks to be from him, but I think we should check it just to be sure. I still have 'that letter' that told you how to get in touch with me."

Over the phone, Dave's dad agreed.

"Well, fuck!" Marcus didn't say a thing. I guess he thought I was entitled to swear just now. "There's only one way to be sure." I couldn't believe I was about to say this. "I think we need to go back to Safehouse-A."

Everyone agreed to meet up later that afternoon.


	2. Dave's Decision and Realisations

**A/N1:- Didn't intend for this to be Chapter 2. I fully thought I'd be showing the return to Safehouse A here, but, well this is what my came out of my head...**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

**Same day, half an hour later…**

**Home of Dave Lizewski (174****th**** Street, Jamaica)**

Despite having raised the possibility that these letters were not actually from Mindy's father, I was about ninety percent sure they were. Both Marcus and Mindy had stated it was his handwriting – I didn't doubt they wouldn't recognise it as did my father from when he knew Damon in prison.

But, I knew Mindy would believe anything that was purportedly from him just because she trusted him so much, and I knew that it'd be really easy for the remaining D'Amico's – Chris, Angie and Ralph; Frank's brother – to set Mindy up. All it'd take would be a few enquiries to that asshole, Vic Gigante, in the NYPD.

"I really hope for Mindy's sake that these letters are the real deal." I murmured absently.

I looked up at my dad. He didn't say anything from where he was seated across the kitchen table from me. He just sat there, watching…

* * *

I just sat there watching the thoughts flit across Dave's face.

He didn't realise it, but he was in love with Mindy. He was always thinking about Mindy, talking about Mindy this and Mindy that. His relationship with his first girlfriend was over, not that Dave realised it; he still thought of Katie as his girlfriend. She'd always claimed to be 'in love with Dave,' but now that my suspicions that Dave was Kick-Ass had been confirmed, I knew she wasn't; she was in love with Kick-Ass, not Dave.

Knowing what I now know, it was fairly obvious. When Dave last put on the wetsuit over two and a half years ago, Katie had been with Dave almost every day, and when she wasn't; she was either calling or texting him trying to beg him not to go out as he could hurt himself – which he could. They'd even slept together, had sex – Dave didn't know that I knew, but it should have been obvious since I did the laundry – you name it. But once she had managed to get him to hang up the costume, they'd slowly drifted apart until he began to care more for Mindy.

Mindy believed Katie was cheating, claiming she'd seen her with another guy, and I had a feeling she was right. Time to make my son realise the truth: "You break up with Katie?" I asked.

"No!" Dave said suddenly. "Why would you say that?"

"No reason," I stated pleasantly. "Just you rarely speak to her, and I can't remember the last time she came round."

"It was…" Dave's voice trailed off as realisation hit him. He couldn't remember.

"Now, when was Mindy last round?" I grinned.

"Day before yesterday," Dave said without even having to think. "We were doing that persuasion essay for Mrs. Zane. You know…"

"Stop right there," I said cutting him off. "You just made my point. You're not with her anymore."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." I nodded. "In fact, if what you were murmuring about Mindy is anything to go by, I'd say you care more for her."

"Well yes, I care for Mindy. She's smart, beautiful, attractive and funny." I smiled, listening to this description of Mindy. I hadn't asked Dave to describe Mindy, but that was what he was doing. "She's the strongest person I've ever met. She can do anything she puts her mind to…." I had to frown at that. Wasn't I the strongest person he knew? "I love her…"

* * *

"You love her?" Dad was smiling, and could feel myself smiling too. "You're in love with Mindy?"

I blinked as I thought about what Dad had just asked. Did I love her? The more I thought about it, the more I realised that I did love her. She was never out of my thoughts, even when we were apart. For instance, when I was doing that essay for Mrs Zane, I kept wondering if Mindy was doing it at the same time, I knew she'd be going on at me for not doing it immediately. She was driven to do the best at whatever she did, and she expected the same from those she cared about – which came down to three people. Me, my dad and Marcus. And, the thing was, I liked that about her. She worried if I didn't show up and be fearing the worst, and I'd be the same with her.

"Yes," I told my dad. "I do."

"Now tell me," Dad asked. "What exactly are you thinking?"

What should I tell him? I'd been thinking about what Mindy's dad had said in my letter.

He'd been telling about why I shouldn't give up being Kick-Ass, explaining that while I may not have known how to fight, I had something even better… courage and bravery. He told me that most people would have just stood by and let that guy probably get killed outside that doughnut diner.

Damon was right; most people would have let that guy be killed right in front of them. As I'd been reading, I could think of nothing more than to do just as he said and put the costume back on, but I knew I couldn't; I had no fighting skills what so ever. Of course, Damon had factored that in. Telling me I had more resources than I thought: _'There's two people who can train you in the skills you need; my daughter, Mindy – whom you know as Hit Girl – and a friend of mine from when I was in Sing Sing who is a guard there and a former US Marine; you call him "Dad."'_

"Would you train me?" I asked suddenly. "I mean if I put the costume back on? Because, if Mindy does go back to being Hit-Girl, then I'll be doing what her dad asked of me."

"With your physical fitness certainly," Dad nodded. "Besides, I'm not exactly in the best of shape myself these days – unlike ten years ago – and could do with a reason for getting back in shape. But for fighting skills, you're better off getting from Mindy."

"Then, I'll do what he said." I grinned. "Because, like I said in that YouTube video: I'm Kick-Ass!"

"You made the right decision," Dad was smiling again. "Now go tell her how you feel."

Dave laughed. "And just how am I supposed to do that with Marcus hovering over our shoulders…"

"I'm sure, you can think of something," Dad said, walking up to the kitchen bunker, where he tossed a set of keys at me.

Catching them, I looked dumbfounded at what I was holding. "These are the keys for a Ducati! How on Earth…" I trailed off as realisation hit me in the ass yet again; out of everyone I knew, only Mindy could afford to." I looked.

My dad was now holding a cube-shaped box wrapped in green paper with a yellow bow stuck on the top. "The bike is from Mindy," Dad said, stating the obvious. "This is from me; though she wrapped it. Said my wrapping abilities are woefully lacking…"

That was true, they were. My dad easily pack a big massive ILBE pack, but he couldn't wrap worth a damn. Taking the box, I pulled the yellow bow off, and carefully unwrapped the box. Inside, was a black open faced but with a clear visor, Shark SK motorbike helmet.

O-O-O

"Wow!"

The bike was an iceberg white Ducati Multistrada 1200 S. At the rear of the motorcycle were two rigid black panniers, one on each side, with a top box above – all trimmed with silver. This was the bike I'd been trying to save for since I'd gotten my license a year ago. I couldn't believe she'd bought it for me. Sitting on the rider's seat was a note. I smiled, when I saw who it was from. The flowing joined letters were easily identifiable as Mindy's:_ 'Dave, I got you the bike, because I know you fucking wanted it; and I know that no matter how much you save, you'd never have enough.'_

That was true. He'd barely reached the thousand-dollar mark and the bike before him was worth about thirty thousand dollars. Reading on, she'd written a list as to what she'd had customised. The bike had in addition the top box and panniers: an aluminium protective grill for the radiator, a complete engine cover plate for the underside of the engine, carbon front and rear mudguards as well as a complete racing exhaust system with a titanium silencer.

I shook his head at that. Just what did Mindy think he'd be doing on this bike – _Racing through the streets of New York?_ No, that was more Mindy's thing to do. In Dave's case, she was ensuring he had the means to get away from danger in the quickest possible way without putting him in control of a superbike.

She'd written a bit more: _'In the top box, you'll find _my purple helmet_. I'd keep it at my house, but Marcus would start asking why I have one.'_

"But if I keep it," I thought aloud. "Marcus will just figure I bought it for her knowing she'd be riding the bike with me…"

'…_I know you'll enjoy the bike. All my love, Mindy.'_

"That girl is love with you," my dad said appearing over my shoulder. I looked back down at the note. After her name, she'd drawn a love heart that had been bisected with an arrow.

"You think?" I asked.

"Definitely," Dad answered. "She only used profanity once, and she wouldn't buy anyone a Ducati. Then there's that love heart. "

My father took the helmet from my hand, and slid it on my head. "Now go to her."

Looking down the driveway, I could see the gate next to the sidewalk had been opened. I took the hint as Das stepped back allowing me to mount the bike.

Settling into the seat, I started the bike. The roar of the bike wasn't deep, but it was definitely powerful and I knew I was going to enjoy this. All that was missing was Mindy seated behind me with her hands on my waist.

It was with that thought, that I rode the bike out of the garage, before speeding away towards Mindy's house.

* * *

**A/N2:- Please review**


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